


The Path Never Does Run Smooth

by JustMyType



Series: The Quick and the Dead [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Flashfic challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMyType/pseuds/JustMyType
Summary: Prompts: fractal, gesticulate, silenceThe term 'fractal' wasn't coined until the 1970s; very roughly -- because I'm not looking up the mathematical definition in the time scale available here -- it refers to a shape that keeps revealing more bits as you zoom in on it, in the way that the coastline of Britain (or anywhere else for that matter) keeps getting longer if instead of just wandering within sight of the sea you start walking round all the coves and inlets and then gets even longer if you go and trace around each grain of sand. That's my inspiration here anyway! Hope it makes some sense.And apologies for gatecrashing, I didn't sign up as I wasn't sure I'd have the time today and I'm loathe to commit to things in advance sorry!





	The Path Never Does Run Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: fractal, gesticulate, silence
> 
> The term 'fractal' wasn't coined until the 1970s; very roughly -- because I'm not looking up the mathematical definition in the time scale available here -- it refers to a shape that keeps revealing more bits as you zoom in on it, in the way that the coastline of Britain (or anywhere else for that matter) keeps getting longer if instead of just wandering within sight of the sea you start walking round all the coves and inlets and then gets even longer if you go and trace around each grain of sand. That's my inspiration here anyway! Hope it makes some sense.
> 
> And apologies for gatecrashing, I didn't sign up as I wasn't sure I'd have the time today and I'm loathe to commit to things in advance sorry!

 

Phryne was quite happy to spend her holiday settled on the terrace of the Sea Breeze Hotel (thankfully not living up to its name at the moment) with a cocktail in one hand and a piece of scandalous literature in the other, occasionally venturing out for a dip in the pool or a paddle in the shallows.April on the south coast of England was proving surprisingly warm and sunny and she knew enough of England to know that you had to take the seasons as they came as they might up sticks and turn into another one at any moment; usually this meant that any day of sunshine would rapidly be followed by a week of driving rain.So languidly lounging was the order of the day for her.

But Jack had had weeks and weeks of endless leisure on the ship that had brought him from Melbourne to Southampton. There had been a monotony to his oceangoing days though he had found some respite in reading (of a strictly non-scandalous variety), swimming in the shipboard pool (that wasn't quite big enough to satisfy his need for exercise) and drinking numerous concoctions in the ship's bar (the exotic nature of the available drinks had rather surprised him but they certainly made the time pass faster). All these activities had only fuelled his fantasies of what awaited at the end of his journey and the reunion with Phryne at the docks had been all he had hoped that it could be.Half of him felt that he could stay happy forever if only she stayed by his side; half of him knew this couldn't happen. And all of him was finding it difficult to stay still and relax as Phryne obviously wanted to do.

Phryne, at this stage in their new and untested relationship, was not unsympathetic to Jack's restlessness though and over dinner she had suggested they go for a walk the next day. She'd named a fishing port that had a reputation for quaintness; she'd seen a signpost on the road saying it was three miles distant. A little far for a stroll perhaps but they were both natural athletes who would enjoy the exercise. They could leave after lunch, take a light picnic with them and watch the sun set with drinks from one of the fishermen's hostelries. They'd probably be able to get a taxi for the return leg. Jack's eyes had lit up at the first mention of the outing and she knew she'd made the right suggestion even though he was obviously tuning out everything else she had to say after that.

In the morning she'd woken to a silent room; it was funny how quickly she'd become accustomed to waking with Jack's arms around her and his gentle snores blowing on her neck. No matter. She pulled on a light summer dress, billowy and red, it was admirably suitable for the humid weather they were having.Slipping on a pair of strapped sandals she let herself out of the hotel room and went down to the breakfast room.

"But Mr Fisher has already ordered your breakfast Mrs Fisher" the waiter said as she approached the large room with a sea view where breakfast was served.

"Ah good, I was wondering where he had got to!" She breezed past the waiter.

"No, no, Mrs Fisher" The waiter stepped in front of her, gesticulating that she should turn around.

Phryne span and saw Jack coming towards her from what she thought were the hotel's kitchens. He was swinging a battered cotton knapsack from his hand.

"Ready Phryne?" he queried.

"For what Jack?" she asked in return.

"The walk you suggested of course! I've sourced us a picnic," at Phryne's incredulous look he added "just breakfast and a light lunch, we'll be there for dinner. I've got recommendations for the best place to eat when we arrive and arranged for the hotel car to pick us up at ten tonight. Should give us plenty of time to enjoy ourselves." He looked her up and down, it didn't look like the outfit for a coastal hike to him but he didn't dare to criticise. After all this was a woman who could perform a burglary in silks and investigate a murder in nothing but fans of feathers. If high heeled sandals and billowing cotton were the attire she chose for a walk then it wasn't his place to argue with that.

For once Phryne found herself two steps behind Jack, and there was nothing for her to do but follow him. It wasn't a long walk after all. And he did make a splendid sight in his khaki shorts striding ahead, she was happy to let him lead.

There had been a lot of walking on the sandy beach, for which she'd slipped her sandals off and walked barefoot. That bit had been fine, romantic even. And then a hike up over a headland which had afforded her a great view of Jack's muscled calves as he climbed. She would have enjoyed that view more if she hadn't been trying to stay steady on her rather unsuitable shoes though. Why hadn't she said straight away that she wasn't yet dressed for the walk and slipped back to the hotel room to change into the white trousers and espadrilles that she'd been planning to change into after lunch. And goodness, these miles were further than she had thought as well.

They'd eaten their breakfast on the beach not far from the hotel and the sun was high in the sky when Jack decided it was time they stopped for lunch. At least he was carrying their supplies. He spread out a rug on the sand and tipped the contents of the knapsack onto it just as Phryne threw herself down. Jack looked at her for almost the first time that day, he'd mostly been entranced by the far reaching views of the sea. He noticed the drained look in her eyes and found himself a little alarmed.

"Are you alright?" he asked with sudden concern.

"It's just a little further than I expected," she said, admitting any kind of defeat was difficult for her, "and I wasn't really quite ready. The wrong shoes." She pointed to her sore feet and picked up one of the flasks of water from pile on the rug.

"But you suggested it?" Jack said, though the edge of antagonism in his voice was dulled by the soft massaging that he began to carry out on the soles of her feet.

"How far have we come?" Phryne asked, nodding to the map that he'd been carrying all morning.

"Eight miles so far."

"Eight! We must be going the wrong way!"

"Of course not, not a step wrong, my map reading is first class!"

"Show me then." Phryne demanded, though it was difficult argue with someone when you didn't want them to stop their soothing touch. Skin on skin. Delicious. 

Jack nudged the map closer to her with his own foot so that he could keep his hands on her.

Phryne picked up the map and orientated herself, picking out the fishing town and the little resort which was home to the Sea Breeze Hotel and noting how they lay in relation to each other.

"So we're on a peninsular?" She finally said.

"Yes. Didn't you realise?" Jack replied.

"And the road to the fishing port is straight across the land, but we're walking all around the top?"

"Of course. To take the road, well it would be direct but it would be a featureless route, of course we're not walking that way. Surely you didn't mean us to take that route?"

Phryne sighed. "I have to admit that I didn't look ahead. Planning isn't my strong suit."

"Your strong suit," Jack said firmly and peaceably, "is being the type who makes the best of whatever opportunity presents itself to her."

Phryne understood it as a compliment but still felt a little ridiculous. Jack's hands wandered away from her feet and massaged up her legs.

"I could stand to make sure we are both on the same page sometimes." She admitted. "Finding myself woefully unprepared is not a good place to be."

They both realised that they were no longer talking only of their roundabout walk but of the path they were creating for themselves in their burgeoning relationship too.

"I think you're prepared for some things more than others." Jack said with a smirk. "We haven't seen another soul on this headland all morning and we have this bay all to ourselves, so..."

"Prepared for…" she felt Jack's hands move further up her legs, not stopping when they got to the top, "Oh, Jack Robinson! You do surprise me sometimes!" 

Yes, sometimes, often in fact, they really were both on the same page. 


End file.
